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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29114310">Broken (Like Me)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Ginkgo/pseuds/Blue_Ginkgo'>Blue_Ginkgo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton is a Mess, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Canonical Character Death, Cheating, F/M, First Meetings, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:21:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29114310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Ginkgo/pseuds/Blue_Ginkgo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re broken, like me. I like that.”</p>
<p>He’s shaken, because he is broken, even if nobody else understands it. People assume he’s gotten over what happened. It’s been almost two years, now, they say. As if he could ever recover from that. They see him functioning and making plans for the future and fail to see the cracks ever-present just underneath the surface, the hollowness deep in his eyes. But now someone finally sees all of that. It’s a relief.</p>
<p>Inspired by Lovelytheband's song "Broken".</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton/Maria Reynolds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Broken (Like Me)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He meets her late night, at a party.</p>
<p>Just a couple of years ago, parties like these were absolutely off-limits for Alexander, scrappy and hungry (scholarship) college student. But by now, this is just a Friday night like many others: young, rich and influential people – the new generation of New York élite – gathered in some trust fund baby’s Brooklyn loft. Cool music, pretentious conversations, loads of alcohol, cocaine or other stuff discreetly available if you’re into it.</p>
<p>Alex doesn’t even know whose apartment it is, he just followed his colleagues after work in a little tradition of theirs; it’s not unusual at all, after a week of crazy hours at the law firm, that one of the group announces that he knows a friend (or a friend of a friend) who’s hosting a party and declares that they’re all going. Sometimes, they’re the ones inviting people over at their fancy places and Alex makes sure to always be there – networking is key in his field, and true networking isn’t done in workplaces, but at dinners and parties – and Eliza usually joins him. Not tonight, though. His girlfriend is upstate for the week, visiting her parents and starting preparations for the wedding.</p>
<p>And so Alex is alone tonight, his coworkers long gone in the sea of people crowding the place, slightly drunk and suddenly feeling like he doesn’t belong – a feeling he doesn’t get anymore when his wealthy and sweet girlfriend is by his side, a feeling he has learned to hide well enough, anyway. He finds himself stumbling out of the center of the party, overwhelmed by the noise, the voices, everything feels fake. He reaches a quiet hallway with a small balcony by the bathroom.</p>
<p>Leaning against the wall, a girl deep in thoughts. Black dress, red lips, barefoot, her high heels forgotten in a corner near the door. Most notably she, too, seems out of place. That’s enough to stir Alex’s interest. She smiles at him as he approaches and silently offers her a cigarette. They step out on the balcony and lean on the railing, taking a few drags.</p>
<p>“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.” Her voice has a pleasant lilt, sounds kind of smokey. She turns to him and shoots him a long, curious look.</p>
<p>“So… Let’s talk. You needed a break, too?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Not feeling quite like myself, tonight. I needed some air.”</p>
<p>“Those people can be a lot. They’re so full of themselves, and sometimes so full of shit…”</p>
<p>He can’t help his smirk at that comment. She’s right. As much as he’s become part of that world, as much as he fits in now – a successful, ambitious young lawyer working at a prestigious firm that mostly represents high-level politicians and public figures, on the verge of marrying into one of the wealthiest and oldest families in the state – he’s still able to see the shallowness and arrogance that characterize many of them. He still considers himself an outsider, in a way. She does, too, apparently.</p>
<p>“I’ve seen you before, at a couple of places like this. You were with a girl, right?” she mentions lightly, but Alex catches a hint of amusement.</p>
<p>“She’s not here tonight,” he replies curtly.</p>
<p>Shit, Eliza would probably be upset if she saw him talking alone to a girl like this. Well, her sister would kill him, for sure. He exhales, feeling remorseful. The truth is that his fiancée hasn’t been on his mind at all today. Eliza is so kind, too good for him. A gentle yet determined person, with a sympathy for others that really sets her apart from many of her peers. She’s like that comforting cup of hot tea your body needs so badly after a long day in the freezing winter weather. Then why, thinks Alex with a knot of guilt in his throat, does he keep craving vodka?</p>
<p>“I – ”</p>
<p>“You don’t wanna talk about her. That’s fine.” She flashes him a knowing smile. “No mentioning partners. I’m on board with that, believe me.”</p>
<p>Alex gets the sense that there’s <em>a lot</em> she could say on that specific topic. He even picks up a note of fragility in her voice, and that triggers his protective instincts. Now of course he wants to know more, but <em>no mentioning partners</em>.</p>
<p>As they start a casual conversation, he wonders how he never noticed her before. She’s gorgeous, not showy as many of the other female guests, but stunning in a dark, sultry way. She’s interesting, for sure. Perceptive, witty, and there’s a sardonic spark in her words that immediately appeals to him, reminds him of somebody else… And she’s hot. No, he scolds himself, don’t go there. But he shifts slightly closer and she mirrors him.</p>
<p>Internally tore between feelings of attraction and thoughts calling for caution, he misses her movements and almost jumps in surprise as he feels her chilly hands on his cheeks. She’s grabbed his face and is looking at him intently.</p>
<p>“You’re broken, like me. I like that.”</p>
<p>After a moment, she laughs at his astonished expression, somewhat lightening the mood, and adds, “Maybe that just makes me a fool. As I said, I’m broken, too, so no offence.”</p>
<p>“None taken,” he replies a little out of breath, trying to keep an even tone.</p>
<p>He’s shaken, however. Because he <em>is</em> broken, even if nobody else understands it. People assume he’s gotten over what happened. It’s been almost two years, now, they say. As if he could <em>ever</em> recover from that. They see him functioning and making plans for the future and fail to see the cracks ever-present just underneath the surface, the hollowness deep in his eyes. But now someone finally sees all of that. It’s a relief.</p>
<p>He reaches for her hands, still on his face, and hesitantly takes them. They’re so cold. “You’re right, you know. I am broken,” he murmurs.</p>
<p>She’s looking at him with wide eyes. Any hint of her previous laughter is gone. Her expression is so intense, a flash of recognition crosses her face.</p>
<p>Alex doesn’t look away and takes another step closer, the last one possible. Her gaze drops to his lips, and Alex feels any residual trace of resistance slip away, leaving him weak and defenseless. He just wants to close his eyes and fall, forget. If he had been able to resist the pull of her magnetism before, after what she said and his own confession he feels helpless. So he says what he needs to say to surrender.</p>
<p>“And I’m lonely, just like you.”</p>
<p>Her words are nothing more than a whisper, he can <em>feel</em> them just an inch from his face. “I can be lonely with you…”</p>
<p>As she closes the distance between their lips and he slips his hands to the nape of her neck, his clouded brain supplies him with the heart-wrenching thought of how the thick waves of her hair feel so similar under his palms to <em>someone elses’s</em> soft curls.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Alex didn’t know what love was before meeting John Laurens. He fell so hard for the guy that it would have been embarrassing if he hadn’t been reciprocated with just as much fiery passion.</p>
<p>Almost unconsciously, in his mind Alex separates his lifetime in <em>before John</em> and <em>after John</em>. Before meeting him, Alex was a complicated kid, too brilliant for his own good, haunted by his troubled past and hungry for a chance to prove his worth. He didn’t trust people and refused to let them in, preferring to surround himself with meaningless connections and flings that brought little risk and even less emotional involvement.</p>
<p>Then, in the first debate class of his sophomore year in college, a stranger student who just got back from a year abroad decided to sit next to him and less than ten minutes later, they were making a united front against a couple of insufferable, bigoted guys, effectively tearing their arguments to pieces. And that was how his life after meeting John started.</p>
<p> The two of them just clicked. John was so full of life, so fierce, unapologetic and rebellious. He was the fuel to Alex’s fire. He came from privilege and wealth and, disgusted by the hypocrisy and prejudice that surrounded him as he grew up, he had distanced himself from that environment and joined the fight for social equality, becoming an activist through and through. Alex loved him for it. Alex <em>loved</em> him.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The girl’s mouth is on Alex’s now, their kiss growing hotter and hotter, and all Alex can think about is how this is exactly what he needs right now. He needs fire, he needs someone capable of exorcising the emptiness in his chest at least for a while. He needs a way to forget that the person he’s going to marry just <em>can’t</em> do that. The fact that this girl somehow evokes the ghost of John in Alex’s mind seems like the perfect alibi to himself. It makes him utterly unable to say no.</p>
<p>As her hands tighten around his back and his waist, his lips make their way to her beautiful neck, eliciting a soft moan from the girl. Alex shifts their bodies to get a better angle, and the skin of her throat is suddenly in full light. He can’t hold a gasp at the sight of a few bruises; they’re barely visible even standing this close, probably a few days old and concealed with makeup as much as possible, but they’re definitely there. And a couple of bruises are definitely new, blooming dark red just under her jaw, masked by the shadow of her chin. For a moment she seems confused as to why he’s stopped, but then, realizing what’s going on, she meets his gaze with pleading eyes.</p>
<p>“Please, just… it’s nothing, don’t stop.”</p>
<p>“I… Are you alright?” He barely manages to speak, the look on her face is pained. Broken.</p>
<p>“Ignore it, please… It doesn’t matter right now.”</p>
<p>She leans towards him again, starts kissing him with renewed heat, hands grasping at his shirt, hips flushed against his. Desperate to shut her mind down.</p>
<p>He indulges her, recognizing the feeling. He’s the first who doesn’t want to talk about his own wounds, <em>ever</em>. But by now she’s not just a hot girl, she’s a broken person just like him, and Alex wishes confusedly – as lust takes over – that he could do more to help her. But at least he can ask…</p>
<p>“What’s your name?”</p>
<p>“Maria”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>They were two equal, opposite forces. John, the destructive power and Alex, the constructive one. Sure, things sometimes got complicated. As John was getting more and more reckless and extreme in his fights, Alex started to wish for something more, for recognition of his value, for a career that could match his ambitions and fill his pockets, a career capable of giving him the life he had been denied in his childhood. As John drag into the mud his father’s name and all the conservatism that came with it, Alex yearned to build a legacy to his own name.</p>
<p>And Alex made the stupid mistake of taking John for granted. They were out of college, now, and knowing he already had John by his side, he focused on cultivating useful connections. One night he dragged John along to a formal dinner at the Schuylers’ – he had recently become friends with the three girls and got promptly invited – ignoring his boyfriend’s distress at having to see people he knew from his childhood, people that would glare at him and see him as “the ungrateful senator’s son”. John was being childish and sulky with no good reason, decided Alex choosing to just ignore him, switch on his charm and make sure that at least a few of those important people remember him at the end of the dinner. And when John stood up and shot him a glacial stare – clearly not liking the way Alex seemed to enjoy the attentions of both Angelica and Elizabeth Schuyler a little bit too much – Alex just stared back at him defiantly and watched him leave the place.</p>
<p>In Alex’s lifetime there’s also a <em>without John </em>era, of course. A whole new, terrifying chapter that started that very night, when his love’s car crashed violently against a guardrail on the way home. Just like that, that beautiful person that was Alex’s whole world was gone. And the horrifying notion that Alex’s last words and looks to John had been of annoyance and irritation, the idea that John was in that car alone, in that exact moment, probably feeling jealous and hurt and confused and mad because of <em>him</em>… Alex couldn’t cope. His mind just shut down for weeks, leaving him numb and useless.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Alex is panting, head still foggy as the last traces of pleasure fade away. Maria’s legs disentangle from their tight lock around his hips and she hops off the bathroom counter. They pull themselves together, buttoning up shirt and reapplying lipstick, not breaking the silence for a few minutes. Alex’s mind is racing again, overwhelmed by the guilt of cheating and the liberating, relieving feeling of losing himself into someone who is just as shattered as himself. At last, their eyes meet in the mirror and she smiles tentatively at him.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what you’re going through but… I really needed to feel this way tonight, so… Thanks, I guess?”</p>
<p>She notices his vacant stare and steps closer, taking his hand.</p>
<p>“Hey. We’re all broken pieces floating by. All we can do is try to fix them, one at a time, and move on.”</p>
<p>He nods silently, squeezing her hand. Eliza has been the one to collect and glue back all his pieces, after what happened to John. He was a wreck for months, heart devastated from grief and guilt, brain frozen. Alex knows that without her he wouldn’t even be alive anymore. Sweet Eliza performed a miracle, and he owes his life to her endless kindness, patience and love. She may believe she has pieced him back together, but he knows he will never be the same. The cracks are forever there. His heart shattered like a frail crystal glass and the love that once filled it is gone forever.</p>
<p>As Maria steps back and heads to the door, Alex feels – hating himself for his disgusting selfishness – that he <em>has</em> to see her again. Has to grant himself a place where he can stop pretending. A place to be openly broken.</p>
<p>“Maria, wait…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Poor Eliza :( I'm so sorry... </p>
<p>Thank you so much for reading this, I hope you liked it &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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